


Shelter From the Storm

by TheWinterWren



Series: Rising Tide [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Caretaking, Comfort, Comfort Food, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Love, Marriage, POV Iron Bull, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Tal-Vashoth Iron Bull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWinterWren/pseuds/TheWinterWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Iron Bull returns to Skyhold, wounded and exhausted, racing a blizzard. His Lady, Inquisitor Meraad Adaar, helps him appreciate that sometimes even the mightiest of heroes can use a little TLC.</p><p>This story takes place a month after the events of "A Letter Home", inspired by the warmth of a wood stove on a cold winter's night, and the abiding love of a hard-working man. </p><p>For my Kadan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Bull raised his lantern and squinted against the stinging snow. No, it wasn’t just a trick of the light...after three miserable days racing the weather in Sulcher’s Pass, there was the signpost marking the final trail to Skyhold.  
  
“All _right!_ HORNS UP, CHARGERS! Just a little further!”  
  
A ragged cheer rose from the ranks in reply, though it was quickly lost to the howling wind. He waited by the sign, lantern high to guide the men to the turn off until the last wagon rolled past, then raised a corner of the wagon’s canvas cover. Inside, amidst the last of their dwindling supplies, four of his team lay bundled in heavy cloaks, feverish and coughing.  
  
“Stitches. How they doing?”  
  
The healer’s grim expression belied his casual tone. “As well as can be expected, Ser. Be better once we get outta this blasted weather. How’s the ribs? I can give you something for the…”  
  
“Nah.” Bull stifled a cough and smirked with false cheer. “You know me. It takes more than a love tap from a bandit’s mace to put Ol’ Iron Bull down. Save it for the ones that need it.”  
  
Stitches shook his head. “Yes, I _do_ know you, Ser. That’s why I asked. You’ll tell me if it gets worse, yes?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. We reached the trailhead to Skyhold. Just another mile, boys, then everybody can rest warm. Hang in there.”  
  
The captain returned to the front of the convoy, offering encouragement to each man he passed, but everyone was too tired and cold to do more than plant one foot before the other.  
  
“Hey, Dalish!” Bull called over the wind. “Can you get a read on this mess? How bad is it?”  
  
The elf’s bleary eyes unfocused in the lantern’s light. “But I’m not a mag...oh sod it. Very bad, Ser. There’s a blizzard bearing down on us, at best guess, perhaps half an hour behind if we’re lucky. Will make for an ugly crossing on the causeway.”  
  
“Understood. Thanks.”  
  
Bull’s jaw clenched as he pushed through the snow to clear an easier path for his team, and tried to ignore the shooting pains with every step.   
  
_Luck hasn’t been on our side for the last month. Should have known that last Ben-Hassrath contact was a setup, and we should have been back over two weeks ago. Damn it, Notas, why did you have to sell me out? You were one of the few people I actually considered a friend. We trained together!  
  
_ _Aw, suck it up, Tal-Vashoth. He attacked first, you killed him in self-defense. Stop brooding over how much your choices cost. Your boys are still alive, and you have a lot to be thankful for. Like Tama used to say, 'A broken sword is a hundred nails waiting to become.' Accept, adapt and overcome._  
  
“Chief! You doin’ okay?” Krem blinked up at Bull from the depths of his fur-lined hood.  
  
Bull sighed. “Stitches send you?”  
  
“Yeah, he thinks you look like shit. I told him that’s normal for Qunari, but said I’d ask anyway.”  
  
That earned a tired chuckle. “Thanks for caring, asshole.”  
  
“Well, nobody else is stupid enough to pay as much as you, so…”  
  
Bull stumbled on a patch of ice, and Krem reached out a hand in silent support at his captain's hiss of pain.  
“Listen, Chief. When we get back, I’ll get the wagons and horses to the stable, so you can get the wounded to the healers and report in.”  
  
“Don’t coddle me, Krem. I’m fine.”  
  
“It’s not coddling, ya big idiot. You and the Inquisitor lost a honeymoon over this mission. The boys and I decided back when we dealt with those spies in Val Chevin that we’d do what we could to speed up the homecoming. Why do you think none of us groused when you made the call to push ahead instead of wintering over in Lydes like smart people?”  
  
“That’s...real nice of you guys. Thanks.”  
  
“Whatever. We’re doing this for her. So long as the Lady’s willing to keep a smile on your face, we don’t have to put up with as much bullshit later.”  
  
“Heh. I can live with that. Be nice to have something smile about after all this.”  
  
“Jokes aside, I’m real sorry we couldn’t have taken care of it so you two had more time. For what it’s worth, we all think you’re good for each other.”  
  
Bull rested a giant hand on his lieutenant’s shoulder. “I appreciate that, though there’s no way my informants would have even talked to you guys, let alone been willing to deal. But, Red’s last message said Meraad got the scouts out of Fallow Mire, and at least I got three of my old leads to sign on for the Inquisition. We did our jobs, and lived to get paid. Can’t really ask for much more than that.”  
  
A fierce gust of wind tore up from the valley below, slamming Krem hard into his captain’s side. Bull held on tight until the wind passed, grunting as his cracked ribs grated from the impact, and by the rapidly diminishing visibility in the lantern light he knew they’d run out of time.  
_  
Come ON, not when we’re this close! Just gotta find the bridge...  
  
_ A flare of soft light suddenly shone near the top of the slope, followed by another, and another, lighting up in sequence along the parapets to cut through the icy haze like a beacon, and Bull silently thanked every deity within earshot as he shoved Krem ahead.  
  
“There’s the causeway! You take point to guide them across and I’ll help the wagons!”  
  
“Chief! What about your…?”  
  
“That’s an order, Krem! Move your ass!”  
  
Bull stifled another coughing fit as he fell back again to spur on his men toward the cleared path. Magical runestones set into the cobbles helped keep the bridge clear of ice, but the high winds and poor visibility still made the crossing treacherous. Nevertheless, the thought of hot food, and a warm, dry bed was worth any risk.  
  
_And the one waiting in that bed. Just a little longer, Kadan._  
  
The thought of seeing Meraad again gave him the strength to help drive his team up the last slope, and the Chargers raced across the bridge with the leading edge of the blizzard hard on their heels. Conditions drastically improved as they passed beneath the portcullis of the main gate, thanks to the protective magics surrounding Skyhold. Though still bitterly cold, the snow that reached the inner courtyard was lighter, the winds less severe.     
  
Krem grinned tiredly as the gates slammed shut behind them. “You did it again, Chief! Thanks for getting us home. Horns up.”  
  
“Horns up, Krem," Bull panted. "I’m damned proud of all of you. Let’s get everybody settled in.”  
  
But even with delegating some tasks, it was another hour before Bull was finally free to rest, and by then he could barely focus. He clenched his cloak tighter around his throat as he trudged back from the infirmary. The muted toll of the chantry bell rang half past ten, and unless some emergency arose to keep her at the War Table, Meraad should be asleep. He honestly hoped she was.  
  
_Crappy way to start a marriage, but with the shape I'm in right now, I wouldn't be much good to her tonight anyway. Maybe Cabot can send food and a bath to my old room, and I can make it up to her over breakfast._  
  
A runner intercepted him near the tavern, delivered a sealed missive, then departed with a respectful salute. Bull was about to just shove the parchment in his bag and deal with it in the morning, until he spotted Meraad's personal seal imprinted into the still-cooling wax. Bull quickly read the note, written in her elegant script:     
  


> _**I don't care how late it is, Kadan. Come home.  -- M** _

  
"Yes, Ma'am," he chuckled, and limped toward the stairs of the inner keep.  
  
By the time he'd traversed the long throne room, Bull once again wished the Inquisitor hadn't been housed at the top of Skyhold's highest tower. Stairs were **not** his friend. At her father’s suggestion, Meraad had spoken with the engineers about installing a dwarven mine lift in the tower specifically for when one of them came home injured, but the project was slow going when so many other issues needed tending first. Tonight, he’d have to climb.  
  
Fatigue and hunger threatened to overwhelm him, and Bull’s first hint that he must look as bad as he felt came when the door sentries actually looked sorry to have to stop him.  
  
"Guillaume, Randolph. Good to see you," he said. "Quiet night, I hope?"  
  
"Quiet enough, Ser," Randolph replied with professional courtesy. "Your password, if you please?"  
  
Bull was deeply grateful Leliana had updated him on his latest tower code when he arrived because he'd been too tired to ask, and she'd informed him Meraad had chosen his code personally. He displayed his dragon's tooth pendant and said, _"Vitaar."_    
  
_Poison armor. Nice touch, Kadan._  
  
Satisfied, the sentries withdrew their crossed spears. Guillaume held the door open as Randolph said, "Welcome home, Ser. It's good to have you and the Chargers back safely. Rest well."  
  
The captain nodded his thanks and entered the tower, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness of the hallway compared to the throne room. After the last failed assassination attempt on his wife, keeping the stairwell to the Inquisitor's quarters well-lit at all times was another protocol he'd demanded along with the individual passcodes, so he was pleased to see it implemented even if that glaring light added to his splitting headache.  
  
He'd intended to enter their chambers quietly, but when he reached for the handle, the door opened.  
  
Meraad stood on the threshold, dressed in nothing but in a cobalt blue robe and a broad smile, and happily sighed, "Hello, Husband."  
  
She cupped his face and kissed him before he could respond, and her touch burned like fire against his chilled skin.   
  
"Oh, Bull, you're freezing! Come inside, Love, let's get you you warmed up."

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
Meraad bolted the door, took his hand and led him up the short flight of stairs to their quarters. He wasn't able to hide a grunt of pain when fatigue caused him to misstep, and she stopped immediately.  
  
"Ankle?"  
  
"Yeah," he admitted with a grimace. "Spent the last three days slogging through heavy snow on uneven terrain. It's not too bad, though. I just twisted wrong."  
  
Bull swayed at the top of the landing and gripped the handrail, suddenly dizzy from the climb and the heat of the room. She quickly dropped his pack into the corner and removed his wet cloak.   
  
"Uh huh. How bad is it really?"  
  
He turned away and coughed, deep in his chest, then choked, "Some food and dry clothes, a bit of rest, and I'll be good to go."  
  
"You are _completely_ full of shit, my Love, or did you forget your wife’s a Healer? House rules be damned, right now I’m in charge. Come with me."  
  
She ushered him to the marble fireplace and eased him out of his leather harness, then reached for the straps of his wide armor belt.   
  
" _Kadan,"_ Bull said sadly, stopping her hands. "I love you, but I just don't think I have it in me tonight."  
  
Meraad rolled her eyes. "Right, because you're  _so_ irresistible when you're dead on your feet. I need you out of these wet clothes, so I can get you cleaned up and look at your injuries."  
  
"Oh. Sorry,” he chuckled sheepishly. “Not really thinking straight right now."   
  
Like the changing tides of her name, Meraad's mood instantly gentled. "I know, Love. Now hush and let me take care of you."  
  
With nimble fingers she unlatched his remaining armor, peeled off his sodden boots, and carefully removed his brace and pants, tossing everything aside to be cleaned or replaced. Bull shivered, but relished the steady warmth of the fire on his newly-exposed skin, mixed with the savory aromas of food warming in covered pots on the hearth.   
  
He wasn't aware he'd started to doze until Meraad softly said, "Stay with me a little longer, _Kadan,_ then I promise you can rest." She gazed intently into his pale green eye as she felt his head and neck.  
  
"No fever, and no swelling, that's great. Any headache, sore throat, or trouble swallowing?"  
  
"Swallowing fine, though throat’s a bit tender after that last cough. Definitely got a headache, but I'm exhausted and hungry. Got a couple of ribs cracked last week too."  
  
Meraad hissed in sympathy. "Double fun with a cough. Thanks for telling me. Are you getting any feeling back in your hands and feet yet?”  
  
“Some. Stair climb helped with that. Stings like shit.”  
  
“Sorry you’re uncomfortable, but it’s still good.” She helped him step into a large, shallow basin in front of the fire. “Count backward from forty, by fives, please?”  
  
“What? Oh...Forty, thirty-five, thirty, twenty-five, twenty, fifteen, ten, five _._ ”  
  
“Excellent. Now say, ‘she sells seashells’.”  
  
He smirked, catching on to the test. “She sells seashells, sitting on slitted sheets, and even though she’s sleepy, she’s not slurring her speech.”  
  
Meraad kissed his nose. “ _There’s_ my sweet smartass. Well, _Serah_ , you're not showing any other signs of illness so far, which is miraculous, all things considered. But I’m still going to keep an eye on you for the next couple of days since I’ve been told some of your boys are sick. In the meantime, exhausted and hungry I can definitely solve. Drink this, and let's see if we can't keep that charming cough of yours from getting worse."  
  
She handed him a green bottle that smelled heavily of elfroot and spices, and after a moment's instinctive hesitation to recognize its contents, he chugged the regeneration tonic in one grateful swallow. It had an earthy, peaty flavor and a soothingly warm finish that reminded him of West Hill single malt whisky, and within seconds he felt his headache diminish and strength trickling back into his aching limbs.  
  
"I _really_ need you to teach that tonic recipe to Stitches. His potions still taste like crap."  
  
"That poor man has kept you alive for years!" She laughed. "Maybe if you pay him better, he’d make them taste better. Or, _maybe,_ pay more attention to the difference between a potion and a topical poultice.”  
  
She replaced the bottle in his hand with a large stoneware mug filled with a dark, rich broth laced with garlic and herbs.  
  
“This, however, is soup. Druffalo broth, to be exact. It should help tide you over while I get you cleaned up. Be careful, it's really hot."  
  
Bull was about to say he didn't care if it was a mug of molten lava as long as it was edible, when a cascade of warm water suddenly flowed over his shoulder and down his broad, scarred chest. He had to grab the stone mantle with his free hand to steady himself against the startling sensation of the water contrasting with the fire's dry heat on his chilled skin.  
  
Meraad tapped the bottom of his mug to remind him to drink, then set to work washing days of mud, sweat, and road grime from his body with a sea sponge and astringent soap. “Sorry for the surprise, Beloved. I know you’d probably love to go soak right now, but that wouldn’t be safe until I know you’re fully thawed.”  
  
“Aww, why? Wouldn’t that help me warm up faster?”  
  
“In the wrong way. When your extremities get numb from the cold, it’s because your body’s pulled the heat to protect your brain and innards. If you get in a hot tub, the sudden warming of your limbs would send the cold from them to your core as your body tries to right itself. Worst case scenario, it could make your heart seize up and kill you. Let’s not do that, please.”  
  
She rinsed and dried his head, then wrapped a heated towel around the base of his horns in a figure eight across the top to keep it in place. “But, since you also smelled like a sweaty warhorse, and the grime makes it hard to see your injuries, I’d like you clean before completely wrapping you up.”  
  
When she stepped in front of him to finish scrubbing, Bull was pleasantly surprised to see she was naked, save only for her dragon's tooth pendant, which was drawn up on its sliding chain to choker length to keep it from being snagged.  
  
“Hmmm...now _there’s_ a sight for a sore eye,” he grinned down at her appreciatively, enjoying the play of firelight on her pewter grey skin and muscles as she washed him head to toe.  
  
Meraad shook her head and chuckled. “Don’t read too much into it, Love. As much as we both may wish it otherwise, you’re in no shape to play right now. I just didn’t want to get my robe all wet. Now, quit ogling and finish that broth.”  
  
After a final rinse, she dried him off with a towel then helped him into his favorite rose red robe and slippers she’d warmed at the hearth. Patting the seat of the wide divan, Meraad gestured for him to sit and stretch out as she tucked a heavy blanket around his legs and propped him up with cushions.  
  
He barely registered the sound of a jar opening before her graceful hands reached over the top of his horns to massage a thick herbal poultice on his upper chest, and his sinuses suddenly cleared from the pungent scents of mint and, to his greater surprise, eucalyptus. That distinctive scent was one Bull knew well, as the trees whose leaves produced the medicinal oil were native to Par Vollen. He had no idea where she'd acquired it, but she must have spared no expense to do so.  
  
"I was starting to feel like I’d never be completely warm again.” He sighed. “And I don't know where you found the eucalyptus oil, but I'd be grateful if you could send some down to my boys. _"_    
  
"Already did, Love. We found a reliable source in northern Rivain a few weeks ago. It wasn't cheap, but given how bad things got last winter before repairs were completed, I made sure to order enough to supply our healers for months. And I know how much the Chargers mean to you, Bull, there's no way I'd forget them."  
  
She tipped his chin up to gently apply the poultice to his throat, affording him a lovely view of the underside of her ample breasts, but with the wrap on his head he couldn’t properly reach her to kiss them.  
  
“Aww, that’s just unfair, _Kadan._ ”  
  
“My poor husband, how cruelly I mistreat you,” she teased, tucking the front of his robe closed, before retrieving another jar from the side table. Bull closed his eye and groaned as she began massaging balm into the bases of his broad horns.  
  
“I’ve said it before, but _damn_ you have great hands."  
  
"Thank you. What do you think of the horn balm? This is the first batch I’ve made from Aunt Hissera’s recipe. Took me some time to gather all the ingredients down here, but I won’t use any other but hers."  
  
He touched the balm, savoring its silky texture as he rubbed it between his calloused fingers. "I think she'll be proud, it feels good. And I agree with you, this is even better than what I used back in Seheron, though admittedly that stuff was pretty no-frills military grade. Had a guy in Val Royeaux smuggle some south when he could, but the civil war interrupted a lot of supply lines."  
  
She finished her task and cleaned her hands, and Bull gently pulled her around to kneel by his side. "It means a lot to me that you did all this, sweetheart. And here I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you."  
  
"You _are_ taking care of me! By making it home alive, and letting me help you. I was worried sick when we lost contact, and when I felt the blizzard approaching, I...well, what matters is that you're with me now. I've missed you so much."  
  
He brushed a strand of her pearl white hair from her forehead, and she leaned into his hand. "I missed you too, Meraad. I swear I did all I could to get back sooner. There was trouble with my last contact, and we had to..."  
  
She silenced him with one finger against his lips. " _Katoh._ "  
  
"What?" It was the first time she'd actually _used_ their safe word, and he didn't expect it like this.  
  
"You heard me. As you once said, when we're together there's no Inquisition, no war, nothing outside this room. Just you, and just me. I'm holding you to that tonight."  
  
" _Kadan_ , why are you crying?"  
  
"Because I love you, _The_ Iron Bull, and I'm so fucking thankful you made it home for me to tell you so!"  She kissed him passionately, desperate to confirm he really was with her, and Bull responded with all the strength he had left.  
  
When they parted, he brushed away her tears and joked, "You know, if this all turns out to be just a dream and I'm actually dead in a snowbank somewhere, I'm going to be pretty disappointed."  
  
Her rich laugh echoed through the room, a joyous release of pent up anxiety that was music to Bull's ears. But when she leaned in to kiss him again, his stomach growled in belligerent protest.   
  
"Okay, rumble-belly, I hear you. Dinner it is.” She pressed a tender kiss on his brow instead. “Try to stay awake long enough for me to get some food in you."  
  
Bull rested in luxurious warmth on the couch as she set the low table and brought the covered plates from the hearth. Between the tonic, her ministrations, and the radiant heat of the fire, he felt a cessation of pain in places he hadn't realized were sore until they suddenly weren't.  
  
Best of all, the room was warm enough that Meraad hadn’t put her robe back on, so he had the pleasure of watching his wife enjoy being comfortably naked. True to her word, she’d worked to restore herself back to a healthy weight while Bull was away, and though still slender, he loved her soft new curves. She knelt before the hearth to refresh the fire, her hair backlit by the dancing flames as it draped over her broad shoulder like a pearlescent waterfall, and he fell in love with her all over again.  
  
It was a true sign of his fatigue that he didn't just forgo the meal and take her to bed then and there, though he would definitely commit that lovely image to memory. Still, he couldn’t resist stroking her shapely backside as she passed. Meraad squeaked in surprise and playfully swatted his hand, but by the way she giggled he had no doubt she loved it.  
  
“You’re looking great, _Kadan_. I’m proud of your progress. And I’ve _really_ missed that luscious ass.”  
  
She arched a brow imperiously. “And it’s missed you, so the sooner we get you well, the sooner you can fully show your appreciation. Let this be a reminder to take better care of yourself on the road, Captain.”  
  
“Hypocrite.”  
  
“ _HA._ Yeah, I had a hard time keeping a straight face on that one. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong, though.”  
  
Soon, the table was covered in plates and bowls, and Bull’s stomach growled painfully at the mere thought of proper food after so many days on trail rations. Meraad lay a linen napkin on his chest and lifted the covers from their feast.  
  
There were two small crustless quiches, filled with spinach, bacon, and cheese; a salad of wild, mixed greens dressed in a light vinaigrette; and a steaming bowl of diced root vegetables, sweet onions, and garlic, roasted in rosemary and Antivan olive oil. Meraad served their plates and stretched out beside him.  
  
"Been a long time since I had the chance to cook like this. I'm no Orlesian chef by any means, but I'm fairly good with simple meals. Do you like it?"  
  
"It's a beautiful presentation, _Kadan,_ " he grinned lasciviously. "The food looks good, too."  
  
A deep rose hue flushed her pale cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Eat, you desire demon, before your Healer forgets she's letting you rest tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

They ate in companionable silence, savoring their meal and the peaceful crackling of the fire, and when Bull had eaten his fill, Meraad collected the dishes and set them aside.  
  
“That was delicious, _Kadan_ , thank you. I don’t suppose you have anything planned for dessert?”  
  
“Well I _did,_ before my husband turned into a snowman. How about we start with something hot to drink and see how you’re feeling after?”  
  
“Cocoa?”  
  
“I’ll make some for you tomorrow if you’ve improved, but tonight this will help you more. Trust me.”  
  
She gathered a pair of mugs and set them on the table beside a collection of fruit, spices, a pot of honey, and a knife.  
  
“What, no rum?” He glared suspiciously. “Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”  
  
“I’ll have you know the recipe does call for it, but alcohol wouldn’t be ideal for you right now so I’m going to be nice and omit it from mine as well.” She affected a dramatic pout. “I hope you appreciate my great personal sacrifice here, Husband.”  
  
Bull grinned. “Duly noted. Hymns will be sung. What’s the brew?”  
  
To each mug she added a generous spoonful of honey, fresh lemon juice and a piece of lemon rind, followed by grated fresh nutmeg and ginger. Then she topped it off with boiling water before stirring it all with a cinnamon stick, which she left standing in the mug.  
  
“This _would_ be Uncle Taar’s Rum Toddy, but without the rum, it’s basically spicy honey lemon water. Still, the honey will soothe your throat, while the expensive fruit and spices will help cut through any crap you may have in your chest. The rum’s to help you relax and sleep, but as tired as you already are, that won't be a problem. Drink.”  
  
They clinked their mugs in toast and he dutifully sipped as fast as the heat would allow. “Wow! That’s not bad. I’d like to try it full strength sometime though.”  
  
“Hissera used to give me this before bed whenever I got congested, and it would put me right to sleep.”  
  
“That’s because you’re a lightweight, _Kadan_ .”  
  
"Lies and scandal! I'll have you know...nah, I've got nothing. It's completely true. The first, and last, time I tried a shot of my uncle's homemade whisky, I somehow ended up in nothing but my chemise, my hair tied in pigtails, throwing flowers at my friends while declaring I was a wood nymph. Took me years to live that down."    
  
Bull roared with laughter at the image, but a sudden hard coughing fit caused him to double over, clenching his ribs in pain. Meraad instantly dropped to his side.  
  
“Oookay Love, that's enough fun for one night. Time for bed.”  
  
She carefully draped his arm across her shoulders and guided him to sit on his side of their four poster bed. Then with a snap of her fingers, the canopy illuminated with the daylight glow of a summoned wisp.  
  
Bull flinched, eyeing the floating orb warily. “Not sure I’m ever gonna get used to that."  
  
“Sorry, but I need more than candlelight right now.” She eased him out of his robe and examined Bull’s right side until she found the point of impact, marked by a deep purple bruise infused with a brighter patch of red.  
  
"This...looks awfully fresh for an old wound. Did something hit you recently?"  
  
He grunted as she encouraged him to sit up straight. "Yeah. Gust of wind almost blew Krem off the trail. He's fine, I caught him, but his shoulder clipped my side when he slipped."  
  
“Feels like more than just a 'clip', Love _,_ you may have a fresh break. Stitches did a good job on the initial treatment, for as much as you _let_ him do, but I’d wager you've had this bound up too long.  If you don’t let the ribs expand properly, it can make it hard to clear your lungs, which can set in pneumonia. Did you have anyone check this when you got back?”  
  
“Nah. Not the first time I’ve taken a blow to the ribs, and I had guys that needed care first. I usually bounce back quicker than this though.”  
  
“Oh, let’s see…” She huffed, ticking items off on her fingers. “You were physically stressed and worried about your guys; you were sleeping poorly from the cold on your joints; you were constantly on the move, eating less than ideal food over an extended period of time, and you just spent the last few days slogging through heavy snow. Did I miss anything?”  
  
“Took out a couple of bears in the foothills that decided to get uppity, too.”   
  
“So, no actual rest then. And knowing you, you saved the potions for your guys."   
  
She frowned and bit her lip before asking, “Will you _please_ allow me to Heal this properly?”  
  
Bull tensed. “You really feel it’s bad enough to require magic?”  
  
“It’s not life-threatening, but yes, I do, or I wouldn't have asked. Understand that if I don’t intervene, you could potentially be impaired for weeks while this heals on its own. And just because you’re not showing signs of illness now doesn’t mean you couldn’t tomorrow, especially with others in the Chargers currently sick. Most of all, I hate seeing you in pain if I know I can do something about it, but I promised you that unless you were incapacitated I'd never use magic on you outside of combat without your informed consent, and I meant it. The choice is entirely yours.”  
  
He stroked her cheek. “Thank you, _Kadan_ , I appreciate that. Okay, go ahead. What do you need me to do?”  
  
Meraad beamed as she climbed onto the bed behind him. Then she wrapped her long legs around his waist and gently eased him back against her body, anchoring him while she massaged the tension out of his neck and shoulders.  
  
“Alright, this may feel a little strange, but remember I've got you. Just lean on me, and try to relax.”  
  
Bull closed his eye and forced himself to let go, focusing on the feel of her warm, naked body molded against his broad back as she threaded her arms under his and pressed her palms to his sides. A brilliant golden-green light radiated from her hands, sending waves of penetrating heat coursing through his body, mending muscle and bone in their wake. It wasn’t painful, but it was such an intensely weird sensation he instinctively held his breath waiting for it to pass.  
  
“I need you to breathe for me, Love,” she murmured. “Slowly, and deeply. It’s almost done.”  
  
He hesitated, expecting another coughing spasm. But for the first time in a fortnight, he could inhale fully and without pain, although he suddenly felt as hot and drained as if he’d run up the tower stairs in full armor and gear.   
  
For a few moments, she pressed her ear close to his broad back and listened intently, until she happily declared, “ _That’s_ what I want to hear.”   
  
The spell's light dimmed, and she cuddled up with her chin tilted on his shoulder. “Well, dear Husband, I'm pleased to report your lungs are nice and clear, and after a day of _**proper** _ rest, your ribs should be as good as new too.” Meraad offered him a glass of water from the bedside table, and he gratefully accepted.  
  
“What I've essentially done is speed up your body’s natural healing ability by several days, so it’s normal if you feel flushed.” She playfully nipped his earlobe. “But you should be used to that. You're always hot.”  
  
Bull chuckled as the last of his tension fled. When he spoke, his voice was rich and full again, and Meraad purred with pleasure as the sound of it resonated through her body.  
  
“Minx. You tell me to rest, yet surround me in temptation.”  
  
She laughed and slipped away to help him recline, propped up in a nest of firm pillows. “Do you question my methods, Captain? What better way for me to make sure your chest stays clear than to get you breathing heavily?” She winked. "Just one last thing, then we're done for now."  
  
The soft blue glow of a frost spell chilled her palm and she held it over his newly-healed ribs, soothing excess inflammation without touching his skin. Bull couldn't help but be fascinated by the delicate control she maintained over a spell he’d once seen freeze a bandit into a solid block of ice.   
  
“Thank you for letting me do this, Love. It means a lot to me that you trust my magic to help.”  
  
He tipped her chin up to look at him. “It isn't the magic I trust, _Kadan_ , it’s you. I will always have faith in you. Thank _you_ for taking such good care of me.”  
  
She pulled the thick quilt over his chest, and softly nuzzled the base of her horn against his.  
  
"It was my pleasure,  _Kadan._ Welcome home."  
  
He unleashed a jaw-popping yawn as she dismissed the wisp, and stepped away to bank the fire for the night. “Okay, your dad was right. If I’d known magical healing could be this good, I’d have sought it more often. You have officially spoiled me.”  
  
"Glad to hear it! For all that you do, I think you deserve to be spoiled." She drew the heavy bed curtains closed and carefully snuggled beside him. "But just so you know, not all Healers work by naked cuddling.”  
  
“Shame, " Bull grunted sleepily. "They don’t know what they’re missing.”  
  
He peacefully drifted off, enveloped in comforting warmth, and the love of his gentle wife.  
  
_Home._  
  
_If someone had told me a year ago I’d be happily married, to a **mage** , I’d have called them a liar or insane. I was so afraid of turning savage without the Qun, but despite everything I can't remember the last time I felt this at peace, or sure of purpose._  
  
_No matter who or what I was, there's nothing to regret now. Those choices led me here._  
  
_To her._  
  
_To home._  
  
_Accept, adapt and overcome._  
  
_I am Tal-Vashoth, **and** a good man. Because I choose to be._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcanon:
> 
> 1) Skyhold is completely repaired, because leaving your Inner Circle with holes in their roof is rude.  
> 2) Regeneration potion tastes like fine single malt whisky. Because reasons.  
> 3) Food porn exists, and it is good.  
> 4) Although the Greater Heal spell is not in the DA:I spell list, it existed in DA2, so it exists here.  
> 5) The story of Meraad believing she was a wood nymph after doing shots maaaaaay have been inspired by a true personal event. :D


End file.
